Page 49 of Rival Summer

Willow let out a laugh, her response diffusing the moment into something light and flirtatious again. "You should be," she warned him, her tone still airy but with an edge of sincerity.

"Scared?" Bailey scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "For you, honey, I'd break so many rules."

I glanced at Parker, who seemed momentarily clouded by the interaction unfolding before him. His eyes were fixed on Bailey,his jaw twitched noticeably. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I saw it—the flicker of discomfort, maybe even jealousy.

"Hey, I'm just gonna go close out my tab," I announced, making a beeline for the bar, stepping away from this awkward interaction.

I had just finished paying when I spotted her. With one last nod to the bartender, I turned, only to catch a glimpse of Chandler slipping into the bathroom out of the corner of my eye. I made a quick decision and veered off course, treading silently down the dimly lit bathroom hallway.

I leaned casually against the wall, patiently waiting for her. Finally, the door creaked open and she emerged looking beautiful as ever in that dress—oh, that dress, clinging to her in all the right places.

"You really had to wear that dress, didn't you?" The words escaped me before I could reel them back.

Chandler's cheeks flushed pink. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she tilted her head. "Oh, this old thing?"

In a fluid motion, I bridged the gap between us, my hand slipping into hers and pulling her close. A shiver passed through her as I leaned in, the dim light casting shadows that danced across her face.

"You're killing me, you know,” I whispered, thumb grazing her cheek with a touch meant to memorize every contour, “looking this beautiful tonight."

Her lips parted slightly, a soft exhale escaping as her eyes searched mine. The blush on her cheeks darkened. Then, without another thought, I captured her lips with mine, as I pressed her against the wall. Our tongues explored tentatively at first, then more boldly, as if we both were starved for each other.

She moaned softly into my kiss as she slipped her fingers beneath the hem of my shirt, trailing tantalizingly slowly over the ridges of my abs, igniting a fire on my skin. My musclescontracted instinctively, a shudder rippling through me and threatening to unravel all of my painfully built up self-control.

"Chandler," I breathed out, pulling back just enough to rest my forehead against hers. "I can only hold back for so long."

"Why are you holding back?" Her fingers trailed over the button of my jeans, her gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that forced the truth out of me.

“I need to have a conversation with my best friend," I confessed, the weight of his potential disapproval weighing heavy in my thoughts.

Her lips curved into a wistful smile, her kindness that I adored shining through still. "I get it," she whispered back, understanding.

Our moment was shattered by footsteps approaching. With one last glance, we reluctantly broke apart, stepping away from each other just as a few others pushed their path to the bathroom.

Pushing through the crowd, I made my way back to the bar where I last saw Parker. The thumping of my heart matched the pounding bass from the speakers. I was doing everything I could to breathe and calm down the rush of adrenaline flowing through my veins. Two thoughts were running through my mind as I inched closer—how much I cared about Chandler, and how Parker, my best friend, would feel about it.

I scanned the dimly lit room for his familiar face. I found him slumped over in a booth, engaged in what seemed like an important conversation with... a passed out drunk?

"Man, listen," Parker slurred, a glassy look in his eyes as he poked the snoring figure beside him. "I know I'm that guy who always makes people laugh, but I have problems too, you know?"

The drunk man let out a loud snore, and Parker nodded sagely, "You know, all the hook-ups lately... They've been fun.But at what age do you find someone meaningful? Someone who you can laugh with after all the sex?"

The man shifted, his arm flopping off the table before he let out a groan—a sound that might've been mistaken for agreement.

"I know, first world problems, right?" Parker chuckled. "You're probably thinking, this stupid handsome guy, complaining about all the women in his life."

Suppressing a laugh, I approached the booth. "Um, Parker, you do know that man is passed out, right?"

Parker blinked up at me, his lips spreading into a wide grin. "Boston! Meet my new friend," he gestured toward the unconscious person.

"Okay, buddy, we need to get you out of here. Come on." I slid Parker's arm over my shoulder, realizing tonight would not be the night for our little heart-to-heart.

As we staggered toward the exit, Chandler caught my eye. Her gaze was filled with concern, and she swiftly moved to our side. "What's going on?"

"He's had too much to drink," I explained, trying to maneuver Parker's uncoordinated steps.

"Okay, thanks for taking care of him." She gave me a knowing look—one that said she understood there would be no conversation with Parker tonight. Then she walked back to Willow.

"Holy fuck, Boston," Parker suddenly exclaimed, loud enough to turn a few heads. "Have you always had muscles like this? I’m impressed. Good fucking job."

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